


Lost Son of Asgard

by LirielLee



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease, Asgard (Marvel), Depressed Steve Rogers, Gen, Steve Rogers Can Wield Mjolnir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:24:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LirielLee/pseuds/LirielLee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While keeping on eye on Thor when he fights alongside the Avengers, Heimdall makes a startling discovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is cannon compliant for Thor 1, Cap 1, and Avengers and then ignores everthing after. It also uses the idea of Baldur from the mythology and comics.

The Discovery

     Despite what most people thought, Heimdall’s gaze was not all-seeing, he was not omniscient. He could view all of the other realms and if he focused on them he could find anything he was looking for in them; he could see trouble coming when it appeared far on the horizon and once he had chosen to watch out for someone or thing he could always find them or it again whenever he wanted to view them. Still, there were things that escaped his attention.

     While magic often left a signature that was easy to follow, it could also be used to conceal items, people and even pathways between the realms. In addition, the everyday lives of every being in the realms were simply too numerous and often trivial to warrant his attention. This, he was now ashamed to admit, had been the reason that he had not closely watched Midgard since Odin’s decree to leave the primitive peoples there to themselves centuries ago. He had glanced at them from time to time, saw that they were indeed developing, albeit rather slowly, but that they were still many generations away from being in any way involved with the greatness of the other realms. The last time Midgard had grabbed his attention had been when they had first sent humans into space. He had watched their efforts closely for a time, indeed he had been impressed with how quickly they seemed to be advancing in the last several generations, yet they still believed themselves alone in the cosmos and were in no way ready to begin relations with the vastly more experienced denizens of the other realms.

     In truth, with all the other realms and peoples under his purview and his dedication to protecting the glory of Asgard, he had taken no note of Midgard until Odin Allfather had banished Prince Thor there to learn some much-needed humility. As he watched over Thor during his exile, he was chagrined to admit that he may have been remiss in his duty by not paying more attention to the quickly evolving human race. The humans (as they called themselves) had made immense strides in their sciences and societies and might soon even be ready to take their place alongside the older races.

     Preoccupied with trying to track Loki’s schemes, Heimdall could not devote the attention he wished to on the now interesting Midgardians but he vowed to rectify his earlier inattention once he was certain that Asgard was safe. Sadly, this safety did not come until after a distraught and deranged Loki let himself fall from the ragged edge of the shattered Bifrost into the eternal void. Despite Loki’s treachery, Heimdall knew the royal family mourned his loss and their grief was even greater for the knowledge that this was the second son lost to them through the void of time and space.

* * *

 

     Heimdall approached the golden palace of Asgard with no small amount of trepidation, the news he would present to the King and Queen was so startling that he was leaving his watch on the nearly completed Bifrost in order to deliver it in person and to hopefully be able to answer all inquiries put to him by the royal family. He was so intent on his destination and preoccupied by his discovery that he barely registered the sights of the dazzling city as he passed through it or the alert guards that quickly moved out of his way as he strode down the glittering halls of the palace. They knew that Heimdall rarely left his post and never without a dire reason, leaving his way clear seemed the best idea.

     Heimdall entered the great hall and approached his King and Queen and Prince before bowing before them respectfully.

     “Heimdall,” Odin’s voice boomed out. “We received your request for a private meeting, and I fear this means you have calamitous news for us. Is all well on the reconstruction of the Bifrost?”

     “Yes, my King,” Heimdall reassured Odin. “With the return of the Tesseract the rebuilding of the Bifrost moves apace and we will complete all repairs in short time.”

     “Excellent,” Odin declared, but instead of allowing Heimdall to state his reason for the meeting, the impatient ruler continued questioning his sentry on the concerns he thought might bring the gatekeeper before them. “Have you seen enemies against Asgard?”

     “No, all is calm in the realms for now. I have neither seen nor heard any signs of trouble.”

     Odin opened his mouth to ask his next question when he was quietly interrupted by Queen Frigga.“My love,” she smiled at Odin, “Perhaps we can discover Heimdall’s reason for this conference if you would let him speak for himself.”  
Odin smiled at his queen and without apologizing for his interrogation he nodded to Heimdall to speak.

     For a moment, Heimdall could only center himself with a subtle breath as he gazed at his rulers; his oft-inpatient yet wise king, his patient and compassionate queen, and his boisterous but recently maturing prince and know that he was about to change their lives.

     “Since Prince Thor’s time on Midgard and his befriending of the Midgardian defenders known as the Avengers I have been watching Midgard more closely than at any other time in their history and I have made a most surprising discovery.” Another concealed breath and he was able to continue in his usual calm and steady voice. “I believe I have discovered a Midgardian who is of the line of Odin living on Earth.”

     Before him Odin’s and Thor’s brows drew together in an identical motion of confusion and disbelief. “A Midgardian of my line? On Earth?” Odin questioned. “Impossible, before Thor’s first visit to the realm there had not been an Asgardian on Midgard for centuries and certainly not myself.”

     Heimdall quickly explained his statement more fully, “While the Midgardian I have seen appears to be of Odin’s line, he is not a child of Odin. Indeed, I believe him to be your grandson my King… I believe he is a child of Baldur.”

     “Baldur…” Queen Frigga gasped, sorrow in her voice and eyes. “How could he be a child of Baldur? My precious Baldur who was lost to us so long ago? How would this be possible Heimdall?” Odin placed a comforting hand on his wife’s arm even as his sharp eyes demanded the same answers of his most trusted guard. Thor crossed from his position beside his father to his mother’s opposite side, allowing her to take his hand as they waited for Heimdall’s explanation.

     “I cannot be positive as to the how, my Queen,” Heimdall solemnly answered “because I cannot see into the past, but I have had my suspicions about Baldur’s supposed death ever since I could not find his shade in the underworld. Seeing the light of the Aesir in this Midgardian I now believe that the reason I could not see Baldur after his death in the fight against the giants was that his soul was stripped from his body with the use of dark magic. If such a powerful enchantment was used at the same time that the prince received a fatal-looking wound, it would appear to all that he had died before aid could reach him. A magic-user of incredible power could send a soul anywhere in the realms and may even be able to prevent that soul from remembering who they were or where they came from. I have been able to confirm that Amora the Enchantress has allied with the giants in the past in her efforts to harm the royal family and that she was there that day. She is a powerful enough magician that it is possible that she could cast such a spell.”

    "You believe that Baldur’s soul was stripped from his body and sent to Midgard by Amora, leaving us to believe that he had died,” Thor interrupted incredulously. “What proof do you have to support this wild theory and why have we not heard of this before?” he demanded as Queen Frigga leaned against her son for support.

    “I have never spoken of this suspicion before precisely because I have never had any form of proof my Prince and I did not wish to give false hope or falsely accuse. But seeing this child of Midgard whose soul has the mark of the Aesir and specifically the light of Baldur upon it I believe I now have proof enough to say that Baldur did not die, but was left to live an unknowing life alone and lost on Midgard.”

     “Oh, my lost child” Queen Frigga gasped quietly, tears gathering in her eyes at the thought of her long-lost son. “He lived his life alone on Midgard and never remembered his home and family?” she softly questioned Heimdall.

     “I cannot be certain my Queen. However, if he had called to me from Midgard I would certainly have heard him and found him there.”

     “Thus you assume he must not have remembered who he was because he did not call out to Asgard,” Odin stated, and only those who knew him well could hear the desolation in his voice.

     “Yes, my King. Prince Baldur would have known that he had but to utter my name to draw my attention to him wherever he might be in the realms. If his memories were taken from him by magic and never recovered then it would explain why he never contacted me to come back home. In addition, I have been watching this particular Midgardian closely for some weeks now since I had my first suspicion of his true parentage and there has been no indication that he knows or even suspects that he may be of a lineage other than human.”

     There was a long pause as the royal family absorbed the shocking news.

     Finally, it was Queen Frigga who broke the quiet with another question. “Heimdall… if the child is on Midgard…,” she hesitated to state her question and have her last hopes dashed, but a light squeeze to her hand from her son gave her the strength to continue. “If the child is on Midgard, what of his father? Is Baldur still on Midgard as well?”

     Though he had managed to maintain his calm thus far, Heimdall could not stop his sorrow from being evident in both his face and voice as he answered the grieving mother. “No, my lady. From what I have been able to understand of the child’s life, his father died many years ago. Indeed, basing my answer on the little information I have been able to gather in the last few weeks, I would surmise that his father may have even died before the child was born.”

     Queen Frigga wept openly at the news that her son was most likely truly dead and even Thor and Odin could not stop a few tears from filling their own eyes. Only the quiet grief of the queen could be heard for the next few moments.

     “Indeed this is an upsetting tale, my friend,” Odin began once his own grief was back under control. “It is not that I doubt your sight or perception, but as we cannot view the past to verify the fate of Baldur, is there any way we can know for certain that this Midgardian is truly of Asgard if even he does not know?”

     “I believe there is, my King.” Heimdall answered. “If the Midgardian is brought to Asgard, the light of the Aesir within him should be strong enough to identify his heritage and I believe both you and the queen would recognize the mark of Baldur upon him if you were to see him in person.”

     Odin considered this plan for a moment. “That may be true, but even we are not immune to the power of wishful thinking. It is quite possible that our desire to have some piece of our beloved son reunited with us would be enough to convince us that this Midgardian is Baldur’s son even if it is not so.”

     Heimdall nodded his agreement even as he saw Frigga and Thor frown at this suggestion. “I have considered that possibility as well and I believe I may have a solution.” His dark gaze turned to the queen. “My lady, I believe you still have the necklace that Baldur gave to you at his coming of age ceremony.”

     “Yes,” Frigga gasped, her knowledge of magic leading her to understand Heimdall’s plan immediately. “Yes, that would work. Each of my sons gave me a gift of jewelry at their ceremony,” she smiled up at Thor, now the only son left at her side. “Since they each crafted the gift themselves it would naturally be imbued with their own magical essence. That magical touch is unique to them and their line, it cannot be fooled by emotions or wishful thinking. If this Midgardian is truly Baldur’s son, the magic in the necklace will recognize him.”

    Odin gravely nodded his approval. “This Midgardian must be brought to Asgard and come before us, we must know definitively whether or not he is Baldur’s son and thus of the royal family.”

     “It may not be that simple to have him brought here Father,” Thor cautioned. “Most Midgardians are not aware of the existence of other realms, Asgard and her inhabitants have been relegated to lore and children’s tales,” he winced remembering the stories Jane had showed him that told rather unflattering tales of himself and Loki. They had been greatly exaggerated. “To suddenly show up and demand his appearance in Asgard would be greatly disturbing to most humans, and would likely not even be believed.”

     “I do not believe that that will be the problem with this particular human,” came Heimdall’s response to Thor’s concerns. “Disbelief in his familial connection may occur, but not in Asgard itself, he is already aware of the existence of other realms and of Asgard in particular.”

     Thor stared at Heimdall in surprise. “Who is this human Heimdall? If he does not know the truth of his father, how is it that he aware of the existence of Asgard?”

     “It is because he knows you, my Prince,” was Heimdall’s answer. As Thor continued to stare in confusion, Heimdall continued, “You have met this man and that is what drew my gaze upon him and so I was able to recognize the light within him.”

     “Who?” Thor demanded.

    “On Midgard I believe he is known as Captain America.” Heimdall’s heavy gaze landed on each member of the royal family. “I believe the son of Baldur, the lost child of Asgard, to be Steve Rogers, your fellow Avenger and brother-in-arms.”


	2. When One Door Closes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve suffers more than those around him realize.

Thwap…thwap…thwap…

     The steady rhythm of fists hitting the heavy bag was the only sound in the otherwise silent and deserted gym. Despite his efforts to focus on his form and lose himself in the repetition of his workout, Steve Rogers found himself fighting off memories of those he had lost and choices he could never go back and make anew. As he struggled against his demons, his hits came ever faster and harder and before he knew it the bag in front of him suddenly burst and then sagged limply.

     He deflated nearly as fast as the broken equipment, the shock of breaking another bag bringing him back to himself with a gasp. Knowing no one else was in the gym with him, he let himself close his eyes and sigh heavily. Normally he strove to hide his grief and uncertainty about this new life he had found himself in; but at moments like this, when he was alone and all the pent up sorrow simply became too much, he allowed himself to acknowledge that he was barely treading water in this new century. He missed the Howling Commandos, their teasing and jokes and brotherly comradery. He missed the Peggy that still existed in his mind, although not in reality, her spirit and bravery and determination. He even missed Howard’s arrogance and incomprehensible intelligence and Colonel Phillips dry humor and no nonsense sense of duty.

And Bucky.

God he missed Bucky.

His best-friend. His brother in all but blood.

The brother he had failed so completely.

     Steve’s sigh became a sob and the sting of tears pricked behind his eyelids. For a few moments he let himself become completely lost in his grief. Steve understood the importance of not suppressing his anguish, knowing that the force of the emotions needed to come out at some point, but it was too personal to share with the teammates he barely knew or the S.H.I.E.L.D. therapists that had wanted to evaluate him when he had first woken up. His sense of loss and his feelings of being lost were simply too great for him to begin to verbalize to virtual strangers.

     After a few more minutes of near silent tears, he made an effort to pull his emotions back under control. A few shuddery breaths later, and the calm collected façade of Captain America was back on Steve’s face, albeit with redder and sadder eyes than normal. There were moments he truly hated Captain America, the legend, the hero. He could rarely find any hint of Steve Rogers in the icon that Captain America had been made into or what people thought the Captain stood for. Even his new teammates and the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents he had met saw him only as Captain America and thought they knew him because they had read their history books. They knew next to nothing about Steve Rogers. The Commandos, Peggy, and certainly Bucky had only seen him as Steven Rogers. The living legend that was Captain America to the rest of the world was a joke to them. They saw the grumpy Steve Rogers in the early morning missions and the awkward blushing Steve that appeared around any pretty woman and of course the snarky and juvenile Steve that argued constantly with his best friend.

     As he cleaned up the broken bag and gathered up his gear, Steve reminded himself that he was lucky to be alive at all (although often he did not feel lucky to be alive) and that dwelling in the past would not help him acclimate to his new life. This was his life now and it would be disrespectful to those who had loved and believed in him to give up in any way. He told himself that the best way to honor Bucky and the others that had lived and died before him was to move forward and start his life again in this new era (although at times this sounded like hollow advice even to himself). With another sigh he realized that punching a heavy bag to an untimely death in a deserted gym in the middle of the night because he couldn’t sleep was probably not the best way to follow that plan.

     Steve headed out into the night and began his walk back to his apartment (not home, it never felt like a home) and acknowledged that most of his current melancholy was related to his earlier visit to Peggy at the nursing home. He had gone to see her a handful of times since he had first woken up and only two of those times had she been truly lucid. Most of the time she “discovered” that he was alive several times throughout his visit, a few times she thought they were both back in the war still, and for one truly depressing visit she had not known who he was at all. Today had been a good day for her, she knew who he was the moment he stepped into her room and she knew that he had been found in the ice and woken back up to this new and confusing century without any of the familiar faces that he had loved. They had had a nice conversation about the good times they remembered and had marveled over the changes that had taken place in the world since the 1940s. However, it was the end conversation of this visit that haunted Steve now.  
He caught the shrewd look in her eyes as she took his large hand with both of her frail ones and knew that the tone of the conversation was about to change from its former lightness.  
  


* * *

 

_“Steve,” she began in the chiding tone he remembered so well, “You know I appreciate you coming here to visit an old woman, but we both know this can’t be good for you”_

_“I don’t know what you mean,” Steve feigned ignorance and avoided her eyes even as he kept a gentle hold on her fragile hands. “Seeing you is always good for me,” he said with a weak attempt at a smile, desperately wanting to avoid whatever tête-à-tête she was intent on._

_“Is it?” she asked with a sharp tone. Seeing his wince, she softened her voice as she continued, “Steve, how many times have you come to see me and I haven’t known who you were or when we were?”_

_Steve’s shrug and downcast eyes were answer enough._

_" Oh Steve,” she sighed. “I know it has been harder than you would ever admit to; waking up seventy years in the future, Bucky’s loss being so recent to you and now the deaths of the other Commandos and Howard added on to that, and me only a shell of the woman you remember. I wish I could be the balm you need for all your hurts, but most days I do not even remember myself and certainly am not in any condition to give you the help you need.”_

_Peggy paused to gather her thoughts and Steve took the moment to try and strengthen himself for the moment he had a feeling was coming._

_She squeezed his hand as tight as she could, making him meet her eyes. “Steve, I had a good life and while I never stopped grieving for you I did move on and love and live again. Now it is your turn. Give yourself time and space to grieve, don’t pretend that you don’t need to, and then let yourself live again.”_

_“I… I am…” he tried to insist, but it sounded weak to his own ears. “I have a new team and my work for S.H.I.E.L.D….”he trailed off at her skeptical look._

_“Working for S.H.I.E.L.D. may give you a purpose and it will keep you busy, but I know from experience it is not the way to have a life” Peggy said sternly. “You need more than missions, Steve.”_

_“I like the missions,” Steve argued. “They’re familiar… they’re practically the only thing that is familiar,” he muttered._

_“Yes,” Peggy said wryly, “I’m sure they are. However, you cannot let S.H.I.E.L.D. be your whole life now, you are more than just what you do for work Steve, as important as that is. You were your own person before the war and the SSR, a person greatly loved and respected by myself, the Commandos, and especially Bucky. Be Steven Rogers… not just Captain America.”_

_“How,” Steve asked in a small voice, “I don’t know if I know how anymore. There is no one left besides you that cares about Steve Rogers, all anyone wants is Captain America.”_

_“Then leave Captain America behind if you have to,” Peggy stated fiercely. “I know you feel you have a duty and a responsibility to the world, but you also have to find a way to not lose yourself. Captain America, the Super Soldier, is only one part of the good man that is Steven Grant Rogers, and not even the best part,” she said with a soft smile._

_Steve smiled back and tried to reassure his best girl, “Yes, it’s harder than anyone other than you seems to realize, but I am trying Peg, you don’t need to worry about me.”_

_Peggy gave a dry chuckle, “I wish I could say I always worry about you, but most days I don’t know if I would remember who I was worrying about or why I was worrying.”_

_Steve smiled weakly, he appreciated that Peggy was trying to make light of not only their conversation but also her condition. However, he didn’t seem to find much humorous these days and Peggy’s deteriorating mind and health certainly were not something he could even pretend to joke about._

_Peggy softly sighed again, she had so much she wanted to say to the man in front of her, so much he needed to hear. However, she didn’t know if her faltering mind would let her get through this and she certainly couldn’t guarantee it would ever give her another opportunity._

_“Steve, I know this is difficult, but you need to hear these things and I am the only one left who knows to say them to you, and even I am rarely coherent enough to do so.” She paused at the desolate look in his eyes and knew that she was hurting him even as she tried to help him._

_“I have orders for you Captain… my final orders.” She was pleased that after a deep breath Steve met her eyes unflinchingly; there was the inner strength that had been banked since he awakened and that he would need so desperately in the days to come._

_“Yes Ma’am” Steve swallowed hard as he replied._

_“Don’t lose yourself in the legend of Captain America, be Steve Rogers… a good man.”_

_“Yes, Ma’am,” Steve responded with a nod._

_“Don’t lose yourself in the past,” she continued. “Neither Bucky, nor I, nor the Commandos would have wanted you to give up because we could no longer walk beside you. Honor their lives and mine by living yours.”_

_The affirmative response was slower in coming this time and much softer. Steve didn’t know if he could truly promise such a thing, but he knew Peggy (and Bucky would have too) expected him to at least try. “Yes, Ma’am”_

_“And finally,” Peggy took a deep breath to steady herself, “you must stop these visits Steve.” At her words, his hands jerked in hers involuntarily, and though he was not trying to pull away from her she lost her fragile grip on him. He turned hurt and betrayed eyes on her and saw compassion and tears in hers, but also grim determination. “You cannot move on with your future if you are clinging to the past… and that includes me.”_

_“No…” Steve whispered. Dread was a heavy thing in his chest and he was not sure if his next breath would come to him or if he would struggle and gasp as he had before the serum had made him the paragon of human form._

_“Steve,” Peggy murmured, and he could hear the pain in her voice. “I wish, more than I can say, that visiting me brought you some solace for all your sacrifices, but we both know it does not. How can it when most of the time I am causing you pain because I am ‘discovering’ your existence once again? How can these visits do anything other than hurt you by being a reminder that the woman you loved is fading away and soon will be gone altogether?”_

_Steve had no real response to her analysis of the situation, mainly because she was right... as usual._

_It did break him a little each time he saw her and she had forgotten he had been found in the ice and he had to see her amazement and sorrow again and again. It upset him more than he could even acknowledge that those memories that were so clear and recent for him, were decades in the past for her and were largely being forgotten. Each time he left her, he felt more and more that he had been cheated out of the life that he could have had and more lost with the realization that he had nothing left in this new century._

_Still… to never see her again… that was nearly unthinkable._

_“You’re all I really have Peg,” he whispered brokenly._

_“But you don’t really have me Steve,” Peggy responded sadly. “If I don’t know who you are most days or when we are, or even who I am, then how can I be there for you? The truth is we are continuously having one of the longest and most confusing good-byes possible. And you are the one being hurt by it.” Peggy managed a wry smile through her tears, “I won’t even remember this good-bye Steven, but you will and that is why it needs to happen now. Right now I am myself and I know what I am saying and what we once meant to each other, now is the time for a good-bye that actually means something.” Peggy pleaded with the still young man in front of her, “No more drawn out good-byes, my time left is short and your future is still ahead of you. Live it Steve, as I lived my life.” She held a withered hand out to the blonde and hoped…_

_There was a very long moment and then Peggy could see Steve’s acceptance of her final order. His strong shoulders slumped and his bowed head kept her from seeing his wet eyes, but she knew he would honor her request. Still, she waited with her hand upturned at the side of her bed knowing that he would need a few moments to gather himself before their final good-bye. Her patience was rewarded when, after many minutes, he lifted his head and his clear determined eyes met hers and his strong hand again came to gently hold her frail one._

_“Steven Grant Rogers,” Peggy began in the strongest voice she could muster. “You are an amazing man; courageous, caring, and more bull-headed than anyone I have ever known” They shared a wet chuckle at that. “Dr. Erskine could not have picked a better man and my life was better for having you in it, even for such a brief time.” She squeezed his hand and smiled at him. “Live your life well… and make Bucky and I proud.”_

_Steve did not try to stop the tears that spilled from his eyes at her statement, but his gaze never left hers and he gave a tremulous smile of his own in return. “Peggy… you’re still my best girl,” he said and grinned when she lightly flushed at that. “I wish things could have been different, but I am glad that you were happy and lived a good life…” he faltered briefly but after a deep breath that shook more than he wanted to admit he was able to continue. “Thank you… for everything… for seeing me when no one else did, for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself, and for always telling me what I need to hear, even when I don’t like it.” He grinned wryly at her and was rewarded with a chuckle and a very familiar exasperated look from her that had often been aimed in his direction._

_A poignant silence reigned for a few minutes as they simply smiled at each other and then Steve noticed that Peggy’s eyes were starting to droop and he knew that the time had come._

_He squeezed her hand gently as he stood and when her eyes snapped back to meet his he smiled sadly at her and then slowly rose and gave her a soft kiss on her cool forehead._

_“Steve?” she questioned, sounding a little lost, and Steve was afraid she had already slipped away from the conversation. However, Peggy gave herself a little shake and her eyes refocused and Steve understood that she was desperately trying to hold on for a short while longer. “Good-bye Steve,” she murmured._

_“Good-bye Peggy,” Steve responded just as softly and he was heartened to see a smile grace her features before her eyes slid shut in exhaustion._

* * *

 

     The dark emptiness of his apartment greeted Steve as he unlocked his front door and he quickly flipped the lights on in the kitchen as he mechanically gathered something to eat. He still wasn’t positive that Peggy was right to forbid him from visiting her again, but he had given his word and he would keep it. Knowing he wouldn’t see her again was no less painful than seeing her weak and in pain, but it was a different kind of pain… a cleaner pain… maybe. Well, she was usually right about him so he would trust her this one last time.

    After he had eaten something (he didn’t really remember what he had even made) he turned on the radio to break up the silence and then sat on his couch with his sketchbook on his lap. Drawing seemed harder now than he remembered it being, although he had stopped after Bucky had fallen and had not had time to try again before his confrontation with Red Skull, so it might have been harder then too, he just hadn’t tried. He idly sketched the Peggy from his memory and then abruptly understood that this would have to be his last one of her for a while if he was truly going to honor his promise to try and move on.

    With that thought in mind, her refocused on the paper and decided that if this was going to be his last drawing of Peggy for some time then he needed it to be perfect. He sat and drew for hours and when he was finally done he was surprised to see that the sun was high in the sky and he had lost himself in his art for many hours. He looked at the drawing and was very pleased with how it had turned out. There was a young Peggy in her perfectly tailored uniform, eyes blazing with inner fire and lips pursing to hold in a bemused smile. She looked as she had many times when having to deal with one of the Commando’s stunts and Steve smiled at the picture as he rose from the couch and went to carefully hang it in his bedroom next to his drawings of his ma and Bucky, two of the few he had truly put effort into since he had been found.

     He stepped back to look at the three drawings and realized they looked very much like a wall of family portraits.

     Well, he supposed, this was his family. Or… it had been. He had never know his father, it had just been him and his ma until he had met Bucky. And after Sarah Rogers death it had just been him and Bucky until he met Peggy. A small family, he mused, but it had been a good one.

     And now there was only Steve…

     Steve felt the sadness wash over him again as he sighed and turned away from the pictures to head into the kitchen. He thought about adding some drawings of the Commandos to the wall as he made himself a sandwich. The shrill ring of his cell phone startled him out of his melancholy.

     “Rogers,” he answered and he had to admit that cell phones were still some of the most impressive technology he had encountered since waking up.

     “Hey Capsicle,” came Stark’s voice as if Steve’s errant thought about impressive technology had summoned him. “You’re not busy right?”

     “What do you need Tony?” Steve asked, all business as he knew Stark would not have called for social visit.

     “Getting reports that a baddie with an army of, and I wish I was kidding when I said this, what look to be trolls are attacking Oslo. You know before the Avengers, I was the strangest thing in my life, how I miss those days.” Stark continued rambling as Steve went to put on his uniform and grab his weapons and shield.

     “I assume you’re in right?” Tony questioned, not even waiting for Steve to give his reply before continuing with, “Romanoff’s already on her way to pick you up and I’ll meet you in Oslo since I was in Berlin for a meeting.”

     “I’ll be ready,” Steve managed to get in a word. “Who have we all got?”

     “Everyone but Katniss, I guess he’s on mission for S.H.I.E.L.D. right now, but I convinced Banner that a small army of Trolls means we need the Hulk and as a happy surprise Pepper informed me that Thor popped back onto the planet just before the call came in so we got him too.”

     “Thor’s back?” Steve asked in surprise. “I thought travel between the realms was closed down for a bit?”

     “So did I, but who am I to deny Blonde Biceps his chance to bash some trolls.”

     Steve rolled his eyes at Tony’s comments. "I know you will be able to beat us there, but don’t engage without the rest of the team. Gather intel so we can be ready when we have the whole team there.”

     “Well, I’ll take that under advisement,” Tony answered. “But no promises Spangles. See you there.”

     Before Steve could respond Tony had hung up, leaving Steve desperately wishing that just once in a while Stark would actually follow an order.

     As he rushed out the door to get to the rendezvous spot he had arranged with Natasha, Steve reflected that working with the Avengers was very different than his work with the Commandos. The Commandos may have given him grief a lot of the time and voiced their concerns when planning missions, but they had always listened to orders once in the field. They had always trusted each other to have their backs and were very much a band of brothers. In comparison, the Avengers had only worked together a handful of times since the Chitauri attack and when not fighting they were all involved in their own lives. Steve and Tony may have come to respect each other in battle, but otherwise they still mostly butted heads and Banner kept himself to the labs at Stark Tower so Steve had seen very little of him. He had done some S.H.I.E.L.D missions with Natasha and Clint, but gathering intel was part of their job and Steve frequently felt that he was being observed and assessed when they worked together. They all may have found a way to work together in the field, but building trust was a slow-going effort.

     And Thor was still a mystery. Steve had only been able to talk to him briefly before he had taken Loki back to Asgard. His impression of Thor was that here was someone who may be a bit of a kindred spirit. He thought they both understood warfare in a way that Tony did not, both had had to lead troops into battle and had lost men under their command. He had a feeling that Thor preferred to deal with issues straight on and openly, as he did, without the subterfuge and subtlety that Natasha and Clint employed as part of their profession. He thought that maybe Thor understood duty in the same way that Steve himself did.

     Or he was just fooling himself out of a desire to find someone who understood him.

     Either way, it was just too soon to tell.

     “No,” Steve thought to himself as he raced to meet up with his team, “The Avengers aren’t family, but maybe they can be in time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I would just like to state that I may need to fire my muse. I know I said that this would be a 2 chapter story. However that is totally not what is happening now, damn muse. She either gives me nothing to work with for weeks at a time or keeps feeding me angst when I write what was supposed to be a brief look into Steve's life after the Avengers first began to form. Sorry if this got too long and angsty for many of you, but how Steve is feeling and why will be important in the choices that are given to him later. And I guess I just really feel like Steve is obviously depressed and struggling in the movie and after and that is often glossed over. 
> 
> I am now planning 2 or 3 more chapters before this is done. I apologize if you were looking for some action and reveals in this chapter, but understanding Steve's mindset kind of ambushed me. Don't worry, there will be action and plot in the next chapter if anyone is still reading.


	3. Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A battle with trolls? Sure, why not?

**Chapter 3**

 

            The news that his fellow Avenger, Steve Rogers, could be the son of the long-lost Prince Baldur had certainly thrown the royal family into a bit of turmoil. It was heart-breaking to all of them to think that Baldur was not dead, as they had thought, but lost to Midgard and had lived the rest of his life there without them knowing. Even though he had not died when they had assumed, to them it was almost worse knowing that they had missed the rest of the years that he had lived. Queen Frigga, though Thor knew her to be one of the strongest women he knew, was hit especially hard by this knowledge of another one of her sons taken from her life. With Loki she at least had hope that one day he would speak to her again and realize how much she loved him. She would never get that chance with Baldur.

           While Odin certainly had faith in Heimdall’s abilities to “see” the truth of the matter, he nevertheless ordered that no action be taken until the trusted sentry could gather more information. Although Thor had fought beside him, he had not had much time to get to know the Captain and could offer his parents no knowledge of Steven’s history, only of his present personality and abilities in battle. Odin wanted as much information as possible before he would send Thor to Midgard to request Steve’s presence in Asgard. To that end, Heimdall observed an unknowing Steve for some weeks, reporting his findings to the ruling family.

          Through Midgard’s so called news outlets and reports from S.H.I.E.L.D, Heimdall confirmed that Steve Roger’s father had been killed during a great war on Midgard before Steve himself had been born. He was also able to ascertain that Steve had been born sickly and had remained so for most of his life until he volunteered to be subjected to a serum that made his enhancements possible. He was thought to be lost during another great war, but instead was somehow frozen in time in ice. Heimdall related this to the monarchs and stated that even he didn’t know how such a thing came about. Frigga theorized that the magic used in the serum (even though the humans had not recognized it) had something to do with preserving Steven and probably only worked on him because of his Asgardian heritage.

      Heimdall did not want to intrude on the Captain’s privacy overly much, but he did take note that the soldier seemed sad and lonely and Frigga urged Odin to send Thor back to Midgard to convince this possible grandson to come meet them. Inpatient to know the truth himself, it did not take the All-Father long to succumb to his wife’s request. Thor had found himself summoned to his father’s side and was pleased to be given permission to return to Midgard and make contact with his potential nephew. He wasted no time in heading out to accomplish his mission.

 

* * *

 

 

 

     Arriving on the newly rebuilt platform of Stark tower, Thor breathed in the unique scents of the massive Midgardian metropolis that Tony Stark called home. He still found the sounds and sights of the city to be overwhelming at times, so different than Asgard or any other realm he had visited. The thought crossed his mind that Steven might prefer this cacophony of sound and people and he feared his task of bringing the Captain to Asgard might be more difficult than he had anticipated in his original excitement over the idea. Still, nothing to do but move forward and make contact with his fellow Avenger.

     Thor was hoping that the man of Iron would be able to help him get in touch with Steven, as Heimdall had informed him that the man did not live in the metal tower that Loki had used for his invasion.

     “Lady Potts,” Thor greeted the beautiful red-head that met him on the balcony. He took her proffered hand and kissed it gallantly, Tony Stark was a lucky man indeed.

     “Thor,” Pepper smiled at the Asgardian prince warmly, one couldn’t help but respond to his sincere charm. “We didn’t expect you back so soon, will you be able to stay for a while?” she asked as she led him into the glass and metal structure.

     “No, I am afraid I will only be here for a short visit this time,” he replied, pondering the best way to request the information he wanted without giving his full purpose away. He was saved from further debate by an interruption from Stark’s invisible servant.

     “Pardon me, Miss Pott’s, but I have received a call from Director Fury. It appears that there are some form of creature attacking the city of Oslo.” Jarvis informed the duo. “I have already spoken to Sir and he is in route and has requested all available Avengers for assistance.”

     Even as the message was being relayed, Jarvis had brought up a screen showing video of what appeared to be large brutish looking trolls attacking the city of Oslo.

     “Are those… trolls…?” Pepper asked incredulously.

     “The beings have not been identified as of yet, but I imagine Sir will have a theory very shortly,” the AI responded drily.

     Pepper looked to Thor, but before she could even voice her question he nodded at her in confirmation of his willingness to help and had walked back out on the balcony. He swung Mjolnir quickly and was flying off to help Stark as Pepper asked Jarvis to call the other Avengers.

     The flight across the sea towards Stark and his enemies took longer than Thor was happy with, but he knew he would still make it to the battle before the other Avengers could, even with their advanced jet. Once he touched down in the city known as Oslo, Thor could only be pleased that he had not waited to arrive with his fellow warriors for Iron Man had not waited for any assistance and had already engaged the creatures. Even as the Asgardian prince waged into battle, he reflected that he was not truly surprised that Stark had not waited for the team. The man preferred to fight alone and really only relied on himself, it was an arrogance that Thor felt he himself was only starting to outgrow.

     “The rest of the Scoobies are on their way,” Stark announced when Thor was able to fight his way through the ranks of snarling creatures. “Still not sure what these are or who brought them to the prom, but they are ugly and amazingly resilient.”

     As usual, Thor only understood half of what Stark was saying, it was as if the man delighted in speaking in riddles, but he understood enough to know that the others were on their way and the troll creatures were tougher than Iron Man had anticipated. “Weaknesses?” he asked Stark as he swung Mjolnir in a wide arc and bashed in the chest of one warty green troll that had attempted to flank the duo.

     The creature should have gone down, but instead it stared stupidly at its ruined chest for a minute.

     Then, as Thor readied himself for another swing, he saw that the gaping wound was already closing up.

     “Oh, and they seem to regenerate,” Stark added as the now healed troll bared sharp yellow teeth at them.

     Well… that was unexpected Thor thought as he ducked a blow from the recovered foe.

     Iron Man took off again and Thor threw himself into battle. He lost himself in the flow of the fight and only noticed the passage of time by the arrival of the jet and the rest of the Avengers. As the group of Midgardian warriors poured out from their transport, Thor took special note of the shining shield that heralded Captain America’s appearance. He was pleased to see his nephew there, as it would make it easier to talk to him after they had vanquished their foes, and yet he felt some trepidation as well. The battle was fierce and the troll creatures were difficult opponents, due to their regenerative abilities and brutish strength. It would be nearly catastrophic to the royal family if Steven were to be injured or lost to them (as his father had been) before they were even able to meet him. With that fear in mind, Thor vowed to keep a watchful eye on his young kinsman and do what he could to protect him during the battle.

     Nearly an hour of constant fighting later and Thor was forced to admit that his vow may be causing unforeseen consequences. It was proving difficult to both fight the trolls effectively and keep a watchful eye on the Captain. The man himself made this even more of a problem by having very little regard for his own safety and by his sheer mobility as he maneuvered around the battle zone. The trolls, while not very intelligent, were certainly proficient in battle and were as strong as Thor himself. Add in their regenerative abilities and even the Hulk was forced to use his full power. Fortunately, the team discovered that severing the spinal column at the base of the neck seemed to be beyond their ability to regenerate.

     The Avengers were making progress and Thor noted that the corpses of the defeated trolls were making for an uneven battle ground even as he saw that only a few of the largest and most dangerous creatures were left in the fight. He had been forced to focus his attention on only the battle for a time as he was attacked by several of the brutish monsters at once and so had lost sight of Steven. In his desperation to lay eyes on his nephew again, Thor failed to notice that one of the trolls that had fallen behind him had not had its spinal cord severed completely and so was regenerating and lumbering to its feet, intent on killing the warrior who had injured it.

     The vicious blow from behind took Thor completely by surprise and had enough power behind it to knock him to the ground in a daze. Mjolnir fell from his hand and the blonde warrior could only blink in confusion for a moment, unable to focus enough to call his weapon back to him. A violent kick to his ribs had the Asgardian rolling even further from his hammer and left him blinking up blearily at the grotesque troll now standing over him with weapon poised and a sick smirk stretching its lips.

 

* * *

 

 

      Steve Rogers heartily wished he could say he was surprised when the Avengers plane landed in Oslo and he could immediately see Iron Man flying around the city and engaging the enemy without waiting for the rest of the team. While the two men had come to an understanding after Tony had almost sacrificed himself to put the nuclear missile in the wormhole, they still often butted heads over strategy and teamwork. Although Steve knew that Tony wanted to protect others and was a good man, he still also felt that the genius was too arrogant and egotistical to truly conform to the team mentality that they were trying to build. The billionaire wanted to do good, he just thought he could do it completely on his own and better than anyone else. With a sigh, Steve brushed the thought aside and focused on the battle playing out around him.

     They had received word that Thor was unexpectedly on planet and had flown over to assist Iron Man as soon as they had gotten the call about the attacking creatures. So, Steve was also not surprised to see the Asgardian prince in the midst of battle alongside Iron Man. Ah well, at least he could gather intel from the two of them about what they were up against.

     The intel, of course, was not good news.

     Troll looking creatures that were strong, resilient, brutal, and could regenerate. Steve supposed that only the troll portion of that assessment was still surprising to him.

     Well, no matter the weirdness of the situation, Captain America still had a job to do. Steve quickly mapped out a battle plan and gave out orders to the rest of his team, with only a mild hope that Tony would actually attempt to follow said plan, and then leapt into the fray himself.

     Sometime later, Steve was pleased to note that while it was a difficult battle, the trolls were slowly but surely going down and staying down. Surprisingly, there were also very few major injuries to report amongst the Avengers, although Thor seemed so distracted by something that Steve felt it was only a matter of time until the warrior received some sort of damage. Oddly enough, Steve felt like he himself was the cause of Thor’s distraction, although he had no idea why. Thor seemed to stay near Steve’s position and he continually tracked Steve’s efforts as if worried about the team leader.

     Steve didn’t have time to contemplate Thor’s behavior amid battle, but he determined to question his teammate about it later. It was only because he was already watching Thor that he noticed the bloody troll lurch to its feet behind the warrior and knock him to the ground before Steve could call out a warning. Thor hit the ground with a heavy crunch and Mjolnir flew from his grasp to land some feet away. Usually Steve did not truly need to worry about Thor or Hulk taking any real damage during a fight, but he recognized that the troll had managed to injure Thor and that the prince needed help. Steve quickly threw his shield at the enraged troll standing over his teammate and then started sprinting after it to make sure the thing was taken down properly.

     The shield hit with a resounding smack, knocking the troll back from the prone form of Thor, but the mass of the creature seemed to have sapped it of all its kinetic energy and instead of returning to Steve’s hand it hit the ground with a dull thump. Steve was already on top of the creature and managed to jump high and kick both of his feet into his opponent’s face. The troll staggered back a step, but recovered quickly and was already reaching out to Steve who had rolled a few feet away when he landed. A quick glance around showed him that he was not close enough to his shield to grab it, but as he stepped back in a defensive position his foot hit something solid with a metallic clang.

      He looked down and saw Thor’s hammer standing beside his foot.

     With the troll already nearly upon him and no time to look for another option, Steve reached down and gripped Mjolnir’s handle tightly, mentally apologizing for grabbing someone else’s preferred weapon.

     Mjolnir lifted easily from the ground in Steve’s grasp and he had a heartbeat to wonder that it was not heavier than it looked. Then with both hands around the handle he swung with all his might right into the troll’s head and Mjolnir hit with a singing ring.

     The blow severed the spinal column at the base of the skull and completely crushed the troll’s head. The body dropped to the ground at Steve’s feet, leaving a nonplussed Captain America standing over the decimated corpse.

     Steve glanced up to see if there were any more enemies still moving and instead was surprised to be the focus of all of his teammates, staring at him in shock. Unsure of what he had done to grab their attention, he glanced around and his gaze fell on the engraved hammer still in his hand.

Steve looked up again to meet the surprised and oddly pleased look on the Prince of Asgard’s face, Mjolnir still resting comfortably in his grip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses for how long it takes me to update, life is busy and I am a horrible procrastinator. I can't tell you the number of papers I got done only an hour before they were due in college. 
> 
> I'm not exactly sure if I'm happy with how this chapter turned out, I had pretty bad writer's block over the battle, but I'm just gonna post it and hope for the best because otherwise I'll second guess myself and never get it up. So hope anyone still reading this likes it.

**Author's Note:**

> To the readers of my other stories, don't panic, I swear I have not forgotten them. This story just sort of mugged me at a time when I was having problems with the next chapters of both of my other stories. This will have 1 more chapter and then hopefully my muse will help me get back on track with my other stories. In the future, if there is interest and my muse cooperates, there may be a short series of adventures with this, but my other fics have to come first.


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